CHAPTER XXXV.

DEPARTURE ON THE 13TH TO BARBAR.

"Opposite Hagiar

I ASKED the raies where we were. Aasal," he replied. (See Chapter xvi.) The wind was as strong as ever, and the sailors prepared themselves to combat it; seizing their oars they began to pull with all their might―ma che vuoi? Neptune seemed desirous of subjecting this quiet sea to his trident, as if the Mediterranean and Ocean did not suffice him. The poor Nubians were conquered immediately, and laid down their arms, and devoted themselves to fortifying their stomachs with kesra, in order to make another attempt. Being thus strengthened, they attacked again and got on pretty well, for a dahabie of fourteen oars ought to make some way even against a stream. The labour continued about an hour; Neptune, astonished at the determination of a few Nubians, commanded the wind to retire, which after a little time seemed to have reached his amphitrite, and the dahabie went with the current. A perfect calm came at night; the sea not being dangerous at this part, the boat was left free, and at midnight passed Scendi. It was calm on the 14th till 10 A.M.;

whilst calm the boat went on with the stream; suddenly a gust came; the sailors resumed their oars, and rowed so violently that one broke his oar and another split his : we were obliged to anchor. At 3 P.M. the wind ceased and the sailors went on successfully.

The dahabie

went on so rapidly that in the evening we passed Atbara (see No. 3, Chapter xv.), and anchored near it. We had seen neither hippopotami nor crocodiles, for the north wind was so cold that they remained in the water. The crocodiles stay in the water at nights, as generally the water of the Nile is tepid; the hippopotami also, but they go to the islands and shores to graze on the tender grass. The night passed safely, but a most furious wind came with the morning of the 15th. I was stretched on the hard table with fever from the first day, and having a quantity of onions instead of quinine, the fever revelled on my body. At 10 A.M. the Captain came in and told me he wished to go alone from Barbar with a Kabir, and I should go on slowly with the baggage. I said, "Very well;" and he added, he particularly wished to reach Cairo for the steamer of the 5th January, to return home, and that he would give me money to travel to Cairo, and at Cairo he would leave a sum to carry me to England. Overcome by the fever I only said, "Very well;" and putting the money near me, which I noted in a book, he left me, and I heard him ask how far it was by land to Barbar. They told him two hours. He then landed, and went on foot. I remained on the table suffering from fever. At 2 P.M. I heard our

sailors saluting their companions who were going up to Kartum in a caiase. I looked out of the window and saw an Austrian flag fluttering upon the aria (the long mast that supports the sail), and a gentleman dressed in Oriental garb, with a long thick fair beard that danced over his breast in the wind. I approached the window, and he and I looked fixedly at each other, doubtless wishing to say to each other, Who are you? but something, I know not what, hindered us; and his caiase, having the wind on the stern and being well-laden, quickly passed. I returned to my bed. On asking the raies who was in the caiase, he told me Ilkauagia Solaiman (Don Ignazio is so called there). I inquired why he had not told me as I had desired him. He replied-as I was ill he did not like to tell me. He left me without saying more, and I returned to my position to lament at my companion passing without our saluting each other. Patience! The wind increased greatly and the oars could take no hold on the surging water. Barbar was in sight, and what was to be done? There was nothing for it but to attack the Loban, and the sailors worked so hard that we reached Barbar at sunset. The Captain awaited us under the beautiful green sycamore, once our palace for twenty-four hours. He asked if I had spoken to Don Ignazio; but I could only say I had seen him. The Captain said the camels were not yet ready, as the dromedarist sent from Kartum here had only arrived this morning; but he hoped they would be ready this evening. We anchored lower

down, I remaining in the boat, and the Captain walking along the shore to the appointed spot. Ten minutes later a soldier of the medir arrived with two horses, to invite us to dinner, but I did not feel well enough to go, and the Captain went alone. He returned at night and gave the bachshish to the sailors, who were quite contented. Then we prepared for the morning's departure, and then slept. The Captain rose early on the 16th, and I rose also and left the boat to wish him good bye as he was mounting the dromedary; with an exchange of good wishes we parted, he set off by the road, and I returned to the boat. When daylight fairly arrived I wrote a note to the Medir of Barbar, who was going to Kartum two days later in the same boat, to thank Latif Pasha for his kindness, and tell him that the raies and sailors had behaved well. I knew not who was Medir of Barbar, whether he was Turk, Albanian, Egyptian, learned or ignorant. I wrote a short note, with pompous words and used more incense than was necessary, more to amuse myself than anything else. On the letter reaching the medir, he read it with such pleasure that he sent to invite me to breakfast. I sent a verbal reply by his messenger that I was equally obliged by his politeness. After a few minutes the messenger re-appeared, to say the medir begged me most urgently to visit him. I went; on arriving at the Divan I saw a handsome man seated à la Turque on a little mattress, leaning on a large cushion. On my entrance, he arose and greeted me with polite words and much respect. I returned

his salutation with still finer words. Being both seated, he inquired if I was the teacher of Captain Peel. He said he had received my beautiful letter, and thought he would never have finished reading it, it was so long. I begged him to excuse me for writing on such a small piece of paper, having no other at hand. It was sufficient, said he. "It is true," I rejoined, " that I expressed what I wished on that little paper, but to a person of your dignity I should have sent a folio sheet." I could hardly contain myself from laughing after saying this.

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"Are you from Damascus?" said he: "from Lebanon, from that beautiful mountain that Ibraham Pasha deplored when he left it?"

"Oh yes! Syria depends on it."

"Have you learnt Arabic?"

Yes, when I was little; but I have partly forgotten it, for I have been some years in Europe." He said

"How, thy letter was so well written?"

"I had retained some of the phrases in my memory." “I,” he added, "intend to read you a description I made in Scendi, when I was convalescent: the subject is Sudan. Would you listen to it?"

"With pleasure, being by you," I replied.

He began to read, and, on finishing, I congratulated him on having been able to combine the true and beautiful, and on writing Arabic so well. Afterwards he inquired if I knew Mr. Melly and his family. I regretted not knowing them personally, for the previous year Mr.